Dumb Blondes
by Yma
Summary: Wolfwood wakes up next to someone... unexpected. Check within for pairings. Please RnR.


Dumb Blonds.

Discliamer: Trigun, Millie Thompson, Vash the Stampede, Nicholas D Wolfwood and Meryl Stryfe are not mine, they belong to other people. I'm just having fun with them. Deal.

Wolfwood sighed and shifted position in the cheep hotel bed, there was something smooth and soft and warm besides him. Mmmm… nice…

He/she/it snuggled closer to his body which, he sleepily realized, was naked. Mmmm… 'Wolfwood, you ol' dog,' he thought, 'you got lucky!'

He slowly opened his eyes, then winced as the light hit his retina, ouch… hangover. Well, that explained some of his position. Not that there was anything un-beddable about him, but he was well aware of the seductive power of liquor.

When he was sure his head wouldn't explode from the pain, he opened his eyes further to behold who, exactly, he was sleeping with.

He lay there for a few seconds, unable to comprehend what he was seeing.

'Nicholas D Wolfwood,' he thought to himself at last as he beheld the nude form besides him, 'you are officially dead. You are going down. You might as well start planning your own funeral.'

He groaned and put one hand over his face, 'I can't believe this,' he murmured, 'I can't believe I slept with… oh boy, she's gonna kill me… _he's _gonna kill me. Oh Lord, I'm dead!'

'Mmmmm,' the sleeping figure besides him moaned softly, and turned over, attempting to cuddle up closer to the mortified priest.

'A snuggler, eh?' muttered Nicholas, unable to restrain his smile, 'who'da guessed?'

Well, there was no help for it; he couldn't spend the rest of his life in this bed. Perhaps if he sneaked away without waking… no, what was he thinking! He was a priest, he couldn't do that! Heck, technically he shouldn't be even sleeping with _anyone._ Still, in his view God was fairly forgiving over these things, it was the spirit of the Good Book that mattered, not the Word. And whilst he was sure He would forgive the odd one night stand, sneaking away without telling his partner anything was… well… it was simply sinful.

He had enough sins upon his soul without adding this one to it.

Gently he shook the slumbering form besides him, 'um… come on, wake up,' he whispered, trying to take his companion gently, 'it's a new day… oh God please don't be mad…'

The figure opened one, sleepy eye, focussed in on the priest, let out a shrill scream and sat, bold upright, in the bed, oblivious of her nude state.

'Wolfwood!' Meryl Stryfe shrieked, 'what the hell…!'

She stopped mid scream, suddenly realizing her state of undress. The quickly brought both arms forward to hide her breasts and let out another terrified yell.

Nicholas put a hand to his head, wincing at the hang-over agony the scream produced. It seemed that Meryl herself suddenly realized her own hangover, for put her hands to her head also, 'ugh…' she groaned once, before quickly stumbling out of bed and running for the toilet.

Wolfwood listened as she was copiously sick, taking the time to get his shredded thoughts together. Trying to think how he could get out of this with his balls intact.

He honestly couldn't think of a way.

Still, at least she didn't have her derringers on her, though she probably soon would.

He grinned sheepishly as the small woman re-entered the room, a towel wrapped modestly around her form.

She scowled, 'Mr Wolfwood,' she said, her tones as frozen as an ice cube, 'would care to explain this situation?'

'Well,' began the priest, rubbing the back of his neck nervously, 'I think we drank rather a lot last night? Remember?'

The woman's brow creased with thought and after a moment she winced, the effort obviously paining her, 'yes,' she said at last, 'I remember… a bottle of Wild Turkey, wasn't it?'

'Each,' added Wolfwood, 'I never knew you could drink like that, short stuff!'(1)

'Don't call me that!' snapped Meryl and she groaned anew, 'no wonder I feel so bad! Ugh, now I know why I don't drink!'

Wolfwood chuckled, 'yeah well, it was the alcohol right? The whisky, it just happened… so… no hard feelings. You don't have to worry, I won't hold a grudge against you, it was just the drink. It screws around with the best of women.'

'What!?' Meryl's face was screwed up in rage, 'it's you who are to blame!'

'Me! I'm a priest? It was you who seduced me with your… your… vixenly ways!'

'Vixen! You're the one who kissed me!'

'So! Take responsibility for your actions!'

'You take responsibility!'

They stared at each other for a while, matching glares, until at last Meryl turned away.

'Maybe you're correct,' she sighed, 'this isn't entirely your fault.'

'Damn straight!'

'It's Vash's fault!

'Huh?'

'Don't you remember?' asked the short insurance woman, 'he was the reason I had that drink!'

'Oh yeah… the doughnut shop…'

'Yes, and the shoe shop before it… and the bar… and that little café… damn, I swear that man will be the death of me!'

'Tell me about it,' agreed the priest, both agreeing with her and thinking it best to amuse her this way, if it saved him from a bullet, 'it's no wonder he's driven you to drink!'

'Right!' continued Meryl, crossing her arms over her chest, 'but that doesn't fully excuse you!'

'Me?' protested Wolfwood, 'I've spent the day with Millie!'

'Oh yes…'

'I swear, that woman's good, but she's entirely… well… stupid!'

'What happened?'

'Didn't I tell you about it?' Wolfwood groaned, 'she saw two men torturing a cat and she had to get involved. She didn't realize that they were outlaws. Of course, I was the one who had to haul her butt out of there. How do you put up with it? She's got no sense of priority! I needed drink just as much as you after that!'

'Millie does what she thinks best,' replied Meryl, a small smile creeping across her face, 'but sometimes she forgets that there are other, more important things she should be doing. You have to keep a close reign on her. I can understand why you got into trouble.'

 Wolfwood grunted and reached over to the draw besides the bed, after a moment of searching he found what he was looking for. A packet of matches and a hand rolled cigarette.

'If you can keep a close reign on her,' he said, lighting up the match, 'then you're a better person than me. I just can't resist her, you know? When she looks at me with those damn wide eyes, like she's some sort of little kid…'

'Yes, well, I never got on too well with children.'

Wolfwood shrugged, taking a drag from his cigarette, he lay down amongst the pillows, his hands behind his head, 'you know,' he sighed, 'things never used to be so crazy. I used to have a fairly sane lifestyle… until I met up with you lot…'

'You lot? What have I done?'

'Nothing… well… not much, but Vash and Millie… they'll drive me to my death, I swear it! Dumb blonds…(2)'

'Tell me about it,' agreed the short insurance woman, sitting down on the bed, 'I never thought I'd say this, but I miss the days when I was just doing paper work… at least that was peaceful. Dull, but peaceful.'

'Yeah, then those two enter the picture and it all goes to the dogs.'

'There's just no keeping track! One moment everything's fine-'

'Then you find yourself chasing _after_ them, or _away_ from who ever they've pissed off.'

'And they do piss off a lot of people…'

'You'd have thought they'd have learned their lesson by now but oh no…'

'They just keep doing it, again and again.'

'And the worst thing is it's contagious.'

'Yes, their idiocy is defiantly catching.'

'It's a miracle they aren't dead yet.'

'It's a wonder _we_ aren't dead yet!'

'They act like what they do has no consequence!'

'They just keep on smiling, ignoring the chaos all about them, ignoring the destruction they cause, the trouble…'

'While we just follow, picking up the pieces, hoping to stop it from happening doing out jobs, even though we know we'll just fail.'

'exactly, but the worst part is when they just… turn round and you see their face…'

'Open and caring and innocent, like a child…'

'Like they can make everything better, like they're above all blame…'

'Just ignoring the consequences, just doing what they think is right…'

'No matter how tough it is…'

'And then, when you look at them, no matter what  situation you're in, no matter who they've annoyed…'

'Or how little you understand…'

'Or how much crap you're in…'

'You feel… good…'

'As if you've done something right too, as if the consequences don't matter…'

'Because you've done something right, something good. A bigger cause, something beyond the job.'

'Some sort of… I don't know… redemption.'

 'Yes… and after that, not matter what, you just can't hold your anger at them, you know?'

'Yeah, you just can't stay mad, even though they deserve it…'

Meryl and Wolfwood, naked upon the bed except for the modesty of some sheets and a towel, turned to each other and grinned.

'Dumb blonds,' agreed Meryl.

'As dumb as they come,' laughed Wolfwood, removing the cigarette from his mouth and blowing smoke into the air, golden with dawn's light, 'but that's the way we like 'em, right?'

Meryl gave a small half smile, it was probably the closest she'd ever come to admitting her feelings for the other two.

'Any way,' she said, her demeanour shifting to its usual shape of responsibility and professionalism, 'this is all their fault! We should sue them!'

'Yeah!' agreed Wolfwood heartily, then blinked, 'hold on, what are we gonna sue them for? I mean… I wasn't that bad, was I?'

Meryl grinned, despite herself, she'd never seen the priest look quite so uncomfortable and anxious, 'no,' she said, 'you were… well… there wasn't any problem. I'm talking about pregnancy.'

Wolfwood's jaw fell open; the cigarette fell from his mouth.

'P-p-pregnant?' he squeaked.

'Well… it's a possibility… a mild one granted, I keep track of my season that this isn't it… but if I am…'

Wolfwood whimpered and put a hand over his eyes, 'oh man,' he muttered, 'I hate my life…'

'You're probably not the only one,' said Meryl briskly, 'don't worry, as I said, it isn't my season so hopefully it'll be fine. We'll cross that bridge if we reach it.' (3)

Wolfwood nodded glumly, even as he began to send several desperate, private prayers to the Big Guy.

'Anyway,' continued Meryl, 'I think it's best we shelve this. We were drunk, it was a mistake, there's no need for Millie and Vash to know. Especially seeing as it was there fault, anyway.'

'Yep,' agreed Wolfwood, slowly drawing himself out from under the sheets and grabbing his pants, 'speaking of the dumb blonds, where do you think they are?'

'Probably causing trouble somewhere…' sighed Meryl, reaching for her own clothes.

'Or stuffing themselves silly with pudding.'

'Mmm… we'd best find them before they make themselves sick…'

'Or get themselves killed…'

'Or both,' Meryl turned round to the priest, who was now half dressed. She allowed herself to grin, 'you know those two really are dumb.'

'It's a good thing they've got us to take care of them, then,' replied the Priest, returning the grin and, for a moment, a sort of link was forged between the two.

'Dumb blonds,' they said together once more, before laughing again.

'Come on,' sighed Meryl at last, 'let's go and rescue those two from whatever trouble they've got themselves into.'

Elsewhere:

Vash the Stampede sighed contentedly, trying to bury himself deeper within the covers of his the cheep hotel bed. His head ached a bit, and he knew that soon he'd be soon vomiting half his stomach up but, for now, he was warm and cosy and safe.

Best of all, though, he was currently snuggled up to someone. A female someone. A naked female someone.

This, in his semi conscious view, was a very good thing indeed and well worth a bit of a hangover.

Something was niggling at him, bothering him… he frowned trying to push the concern away. Why was it, whenever he felt happy and peaceful, something always came around to hassle him?

'Go away, I'm on a vacation from trouble,' he though to himself, hoping his brain or conscience or whatever would obey, it didn't.

Whining softly with the gloomy inevitability of it all, he opened his eyes, wincing at the morning light, and looked to see who he was sleeping with.

Millie Thomson gave a small sigh of sheer happiness and shifted position, slipping out of his arms a little.

'I,' he thought woefully, 'am so dead!'

The End.

(1) I'm not sure what Wolfwood's nick name for Meryl was, though it seemed like he should have one for her, he had one for almost everyone else. Vash was Tongari (Needle Noggin,) and Millie was Big Girl. So I've taken the liberty of him calling Meryl Short Stuff, because it fits her.

(2) No, technically Millie isn't blonde, but her hair is a pail brown colour which, for the sake of this story, I'm calling blonde. Deal.

(3) Meryl is using the rhythm method of contraception here. I.e. she's not at her most fertile time. Note, however, this is NOT A GOOD METHOD OF CONTRACEPTION. Remember guys, Condoms and Pills. This is a work of pure fiction, in real life… have safe sex or don't have sex at all. It's that simple.  


End file.
